The village huddled in a valley fold, its single street rising fairly steeply between converging slopes. Above and beyond the clutter of buildings, on the horizon, an immensely larger house was silhouetted against a sky...

It was just after four o’clock that Sir Donald arrived, by growler and unaccompanied. I had expected something more impressive: a private carriage and a retinue of servants. But it was a rare occasion even...

The graveyard was not far from the house, less than ten minutes on foot, but the Jelains insisted on the carriage. Sarnia was still too weak to walk out, Mrs Jelain declared, and Edmund supported the argument. In fact, Sarnia was not sorry to acquiesce. Although she had ceased taking Dr Falla’s potion, a lethargy clung to her mind and her limbs felt weak. She was grateful for the help of Edmund’s arm as he led her from the landau to the graveyard.

The lawn behind the Manoir was even better kept, of still more ancient tending, than the one in front; but where that had a circle’s regular shape, this stretched out among cypresses and gnarled magnolias...